


Sleep Heals

by brebit6



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: 5+1, Angst, Crying, Derek falls asleep a lot, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, My beautiful boys, Not too gory but just in case, Pack Bonding, Poisoning, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sick Derek, Sleepy Derek, Smut, Stiles Finds Him, Vomiting, Worried Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 04:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brebit6/pseuds/brebit6
Summary: 5 times Derek falls asleep + 1 time Derek asks Stiles to joinI really needed some sleepy Sterek, so I just decided to write it myself.Hope you enjoy :)





	Sleep Heals

**Author's Note:**

> I realized as I was writing/editing this that the story didn’t really have any kind of plot at all, and then I remembered that this is fan fiction- we all just want our boys to be happy.
> 
> Anyways, I want to thank my besties @wildflowerthoughts-whiskeyhearts and @frickty-fricken-frick for their support and their help with finishing this fic. I never would have finished it without them.
> 
> Enjoy!

  
1:

  
     The first time Stiles found Derek asleep on the couch, it was completely by accident. Stiles had been on his way home when he realized that he had forgotten his backpack at Derek’s loft. Considering the huge pile of homework he still had to do, he couldn’t put off going to get it.

So he drove the 10 minutes back to Derek’s loft and hopped out of the Jeep, just like he did every day after school. The door was unlocked, so obviously Stiles just burst in with his usual flailing limbs and loud mouth, only to be stopped by the sight before him.

Derek was asleep on the couch. And not just a light sleep either. No, Derek was sprawled across the couch, his legs spread out, one on the floor and the other on the back of the couch cushion. His arms were stretched up behind his head and he was snoring. Like, honest to God _snoring_.

Stiles had never seen such a beautiful sight in his life. Not even the little bit of drool on Derek’s chin could make this picture an awful one.

Speaking of pictures…Stiles snapped one really quick on his phone before heading upstairs to find his backpack.

He eventually found it on Derek’s bed, of all places. ( What? Derek’s bed was super comfy and easy to study on.) He vaguely remembered leaving his homework in a pile on the bed, along with his highlighters, ruler, and his pencils, but Derek must have cleaned it up for him because his backpack was all zipped up and waiting for him.

Derek was such a sweet dude when he wanted to be.

Having gotten what he came for, Stiles tiptoed back downstairs to where Derek was still sprawled out, snoring. Stiles couldn’t help himself.

He grabbed one of the spare blankets out of the closet and draped it over Derek’s prone form, and it was seriously a testament to how tired Derek was when he didn’t even flinch at the movement.

Stiles allowed himself one touch, one lingering brush of his fingers on Derek’s cheek, and then he walked out, right back to his Jeep where he sat for a good 30 minutes before he was able to breathe again.

He really needed to get over himself. Derek didn’t need him. Derek didn’t _want_ him.

Stiles shoved his emotions down, deep down within himself, took a deep breath, and then he went home. The fact that Derek had been sleeping with his jacket meant absolutely nothing.

Right?

2:

  
The second time Stiles caught Derek napping he wasn’t really surprised.

Derek had spent the whole day with contractors and attorneys, trying to make sure they did their jobs correctly. The rebuild of the Hale house was going slow, but it was going. Derek just tended to wear himself out easily because he never takes the breaks he needs and he never eats lunch.

That’s why when Stiles comes to bring him dinner, he isn’t surprised to find Derek hunched over a set of blueprints, quietly dozing.

Derek’s face was covered in dirt and grime, his shirt was missing (Stiles was not about to complain), and he was currently drooling all over the papers underneath him. Stiles chuckled softly to himself and pulled out his phone once again taking a picture of this rare occasion. (It’s for blackmail…obviously…not any other reason…nope)

As soon as the camera captured this beautiful moment, Stiles made his way over to Derek’s side and gently shook his shoulder. The man barely moved so Stiles tried again.

“Derek, buddy, you gotta wake up. At least take a shower or something.” Stiles’ heart did a little flip in his chest when Derek just groaned out a gruff “five more minutes” and grabbed Stiles’ hand to keep it in its spot on Derek’s chest.

Stiles smiled softly to himself, wanting nothing more than to just stand there with Derek forever, but he knew if he let Derek sleep here that he would never hear the end of it. (Apparently werewolves can still get cramps from sleeping in weird positions…perfect)

“C’mon sourwolf, it’s time to go to bed.” Derek finally seemed to realize where he was, and at the gentle prodding from Stiles, he stood up and headed for the jeep. The odd part…he never let go of Stiles’ hand, not even when Stiles got back into the Jeep to drive them to the loft.

  
Stiles pulled up into the parking lot of Derek’s loft and stumbled out of the car. He ran to the passenger side where Derek was slowly making his way out of the Jeep. When Derek successfully extricated himself from the car, he gripped Stiles’ hand gently, never letting go as they made their way into the quiet loft.

Stiles’ heart was beating too fast and too loud in the quiet room and he knew Derek could hear it. He knew Derek could feel what was going on in Stiles’ head right now.

“I’ll…just, yunno…be on my way.” Stiles awkwardly said as he jammed his thumb towards the open bathroom door. Before he could get anywhere though, Derek was pulling him back, right into Derek’s muscled chest. Stiles couldn’t breathe.

“You smell good. Don’t leave, please.” Derek muttered this into the space between Stiles’ shoulder and his throat, and the tremble in Stiles’ legs was nothing compared to the earthquake in his heart.

Holy fuck. Derek… Derek was…Stiles didn’t even know but he could not take advantage of a sleepy Derek like this. Derek must think he is someone else. Someone else that smells good, that Derek wants to hold.

Stiles yearns for that person to be him, but he knows that is not the case.

He gently extricates himself from Derek’s arms, not missing the whine Derek lets out at all. If anything, the small noise just makes it that much harder for Stiles to leave the room. But he does, and he would like to say he was strong enough to not look back but this was not the case.

He had only taken a few steps out of the bathroom before he turned around. Derek had his back turned and was stepping into the shower, head low. If Stiles didn’t know any better, he would say Derek looked disappointed, but that couldn’t be true.

Nevertheless, Stiles thought about it the whole way home.

3:

  
A pack vacation to the beach was one of the best ideas Stiles had ever had, and he’s had a lot of good ideas. This one just topped the charts because it included pack bonding and tanning in one surefire vacation. What could go wrong?

It didn’t take long for the group to get settled in, Jackson, Isaac, Scott, Erica, and Boyd all going straight for the water while Lydia, Allison, Derek, and Stiles stayed behind to claim beach chairs. Stiles laid out his towel on the chair next to Derek’s while Allison and Lydia put suntan lotion on each other.

And didn’t that give Stiles a wonderful idea.

Once the girls were all lotioned up and situated on their respective chairs, Stiles turned to Derek, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“Hey sourwolf,” he said with a smirk. “Will you get my back?” Stiles held up the bottle of sunscreen and couldn’t help but feel his stomach flutter when Derek raised one of those impressively expressive eyebrows.

Stiles put on one of his most alluring (he hoped) looks and whispered a “Pretty please?”

Derek just stared at him, his eyebrow still half way to his forehead, and then he sighed, put his book down, and grabbed the bottle of lotion from Stiles’ hand. Stiles was going to love this.

Stiles flipped around on his chair so that he was lying flat on his stomach and shoved his face in his arms. Sure, the feel of Derek’s hands on him, running over his back, his arms, his legs, was an exciting thought, but now that it was actually happening, Stiles was nervous as hell.

His heart was beating a pounding rhythm which matched the fluttering of the butterflies in his stomach and soon he felt like he was going to throw up. What had he gotten himself into?

He heard the telltale squeak of Derek getting out of his chair and his heartbeat skyrocketed even more, which he didn’t even know was possible.

When Derek uncapped the lip on the bottle of lotion, Stiles’ breath hitched and then Derek was there, right next to his ear. “Relax Stiles. I don’t bite…at least, not you.”

The laugh that burst out of him surprised him even more than the fact that Derek Hale, grumpy alpha extraordinaire, just made a joke. An honest to God joke to calm Stiles down. _Fuck_ , Stiles was so screwed.

After that, it was easy. Stiles let out all of the tension and Derek worked the rest out with his magic fingers. Apparently applying sunscreen also included a massage, which also included certain parts of Stiles’ body reacting in ways they definitely should not when on a public beach surrounded by people. Derek’s hands drifted lower, massaging his shoulders, his arms, and then lower to the waistband of Stiles’ swim trunks.

His breath hitched, and then he wasn’t breathing at all when Derek dipped his thumbs below the elastic.

“You don’t want to get awful tan lines do you?” Stiles could hear the smirk in his voice, that bastard, and then Derek was gone. Stiles took a moment to compose himself before he turned his head to look at Derek.

He was settled back in his chair, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and the book in his hand opened to the middle. The sun bounced off of him in all the right places and all of the hard lines of Derek’s body just became that much harder. That jawline that could cut glass, those washboard abs that rippled every time he breathed. That damn beard.

Stiles was so fucked.

—————

Several hours later, after everyone had finally had their fill of the beach, Boyd and Erica couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, same with Allison and Scott and even Jackson and Lydia. That just left Isaac, Stiles, and Derek to bitch and moan about all of the PDA. So what do they do? They all plan to go to a club.

After everyone is packed and on their way to the showers, Stiles is a few steps away when he sees that Derek is still asleep on the beach chair. Stiles’ heart does a funky flutter thing when he realizes that Derek must be absolutely exhausted if he hadn’t heard any of the commotion all of their packing up had made.

Stiles set all of his stuff down on the sand and made his way over to where Derek was soundly sleeping. He was almost convinced he should leave him there to get his rest, but Stiles knows that Derek would never forgive him for leaving him vulnerable on a public beach.

Stiles sat down on the edge of the chair and ran his finger through Derek’s hair.

“Derek, buddy, it’s time to leave.” Derek grumbled something about being woken up too early and then his sleepy eyes were focused on Stiles.

Stiles could feel the blush rise to his cheeks under Derek’s glare. But soon, that glare softened to something almost…fond. And, that couldn’t be right. Derek hated Stiles. Or…at least…Stiles had thought he did. Now that he thinks about it, earlier, with the sunscreen, Derek was almost definitely flirting. Stiles was 98% positive.

Breathless with the realization that his feelings might be reciprocated, Stiles let his eyes wander over Derek’s face. It was almost like he was seeing it for the first time.

The setting sun filled Derek’s eyes with even more yellow and green and just made them that much more vibrant. A small smile graced Derek’s face, a smile that Stiles was almost certain he had never seen before, and then Derek was cupping his cheek, fondness painted in his eyes.

Stiles was certain his heart had stopped. Almost too terrified to move, lest he break the serene moment, Stiles sat stock still, which was a feat in and of itself. Stiles was never still. He was always moving at least some part of his body. But now?

There was nothing. And then Derek was moving, slow and deliberate, into Stiles’ space. He was so close their noses were touching. Every breath from Derek brushed over Stiles’ cheek, and Stiles’ heart was pounding in his chest. Derek searched his eyes, back and forth, looking for something, and he must have found it because within the next millisecond, Derek’s lips were touching Stiles’.

Stiles could have fainted.

It was nothing like Stiles had imagined. The one in Stiles’ head had been dirty and rushed, animalistic, whereas this one was soft, gentle, almost a ghost of a touch like Derek was scared to break him. It was almost too much for Stiles, but then Derek pulled back and let out a breath as if he had been holding it in.

“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered.

“Holy shit,” Derek whispered back.

“You know, um, the others…they, uh, went to get dressed and ready for the club. We should probably…” Stiles let himself trail off. Derek was looking at him like he was the most amazing thing in the world, and didn’t that do some wonderful things to Stiles’ stomach.

“Let’s just stay here, watch the sunset, enjoy the peace and quiet for a little while, huh?”

Stiles agreed whole heartedly. And if they sat there, Stiles in Derek’s lap, his head resting in the crook of Derek’s shoulder, until it was way past dark, no one else needed to know.

4:

  
“Derek?”

Stiles walked into the loft, expecting to be greeted with his grumpy faced werewolf boyfriend, but instead he is faced with an empty living room. He throws his backpack on the couch and walks to the kitchen, looking for Derek. It was really odd for Derek to not be around at this time of day, especially since he knew Stiles was coming over to work on some research.

The witch they got rid of yesterday didn’t leave quietly, and now Stiles is worried she’ll retaliate. Which is why he is here…in this quiet loft…by himself. Oh well, he may as well start on the research on his own.

Maybe Derek just ran to the store…or something.

Orrrr maybe he’s upstairs. Stiles runs up the stairs, knowing damn well that if Derek caught him up here without Derek being home, Stiles would be in deep shit. Derek would probably threaten to rip his throat out, with his teeth.

Stiles chuckled to himself. As if. Derek didn’t scare him anymore.

At least, that’s what he thought. Turns out, Derek could still give Stiles heart attacks, and right now? That’s exactly what was happening.

Derek was laying on his back on the floor of the bathroom, sweat soaking every inch of him. Shivers ran through Derek as Stiles watched, listening to his labored breathing. When Stiles finally got his feet to move, he fell to his knees next to Derek.

“Oh my God, Derek what happened? Please don’t be dead. You cant be dead, you’re not allowed to die.” Stiles set a shaky hand on Derek’s pulse point, almost too scared to know the answer. After what felt like forever, Stiles felt the small thump thump of Derek’s beating heart and then relief was pouring through him.

“Holy shit Derek, what the hell happened to you?”

Of course, Stiles didn’t get a response, but he hadn’t really expected one. Setting Derek’s head gently onto the floor, Stiles ran to the closet to grab a washcloth and a few towels and then he was sprinting back into the bathroom.

Derek was breathing shallowly, a grimace firmly set on his face as if he was in pain. Stiles ran the washcloth under cold water and placed it on Derek’s forehead, ignoring the small whimper that had escaped. Derek was in pain, and Stiles was terrified. Honest to God, _terrified_.

“Okay okay okay, I just need to wake you up. Yeah, there we go. Wake you up, figure out what happened, and then it’ll be smooth sailing from there. Yeah, perfect.” Stiles was rambling. He knew that but he couldn’t help it because this is what happens when he’s scared. His brain to mouth filter works even less than usual.

Taking a deep breath to soothe his nerves, Stiles grabs one of the towels and places it under Derek’s head, quietly shushing Derek’s gasps. Stiles’ heart was pounding in his chest, in fear of what was happening but also in fear of what would happen if he couldn’t figure this out. _Shit_.

He didn’t want to cause Derek anymore pain, but he had to wake him up somehow, and usually in these kinds of situations, a punch does the trick. So he silently prays to the Gods that this will work, balls his fist, and then sends it crashing into Derek’s stony jaw.

Pain lanced through his hand, but the pain was overshadowed by the immense relief he felt when Derek gasped awake.

Derek shot up into a sitting position, and then immediately turned his head to the side to throw up into the toilet. Black vomit dripped down Derek’s chin as he heaved. Every heave chipped Stiles’ heart just a little bit more, but Stiles knew he just needed to let it out.

He crawled over to where Derek was still retching into the toilet and started to rub his back in small circles, hoping it was soothing for the man. After about 10 minutes, Derek had nothing left to vomit, and he sagged back into Stiles’ arms.

“Derek, baby what happened?” Stiles was trembling, but he tried his best to hide it. He needed to be strong right now.

“There was…was a woman. Said she was delivering a…a package from you. When I opened it, purple...purple powder exploded in my face. Thought I was gonna puke, so ran up here, and then everything went dark.” Derek tensed, too weak to move back to the toilet, and a new round of black vomit spewed all over the floor.

“Derek, that was wolfsbane! Holy shit, we need to call Deaton, or Scott, no wait definitely Deaton.” Stiles went to stand up, but Derek’s arm shot out with surprising speed and grabbed Stiles’ wrist.

“Please don’t leave.” The fear in Derek’s eyes tore Stiles’ heart to shreds.

“Oh, baby, I’m not leaving. I’ll never leave you, I swear. I just need to get my phone from off the counter.” The fear in Derek’s eyes softened, but never truly disappeared and Stiles was almost too afraid to walk the 3 steps over to the counter, worried that Derek would somehow think the worst.

“Okay, I’m gonna set you down real quick. Okay? Just like 3 seconds I promise.” Stiles gently laid Derek on the floor and then, faster than he thought possible, ran to grab his phone. Within 5 seconds, 2 seconds too many, he was back on the floor beneath Derek’s head.

“See?” He said with a small smile. “Just getting my phone.” He held up the phone as if it was proof.

Derek lips quirked up slightly, but then he started coughing, a painful, wet sound. Stiles tightened his grip on Derek’s shoulders. He started to dial Deaton’s number (from memory. Do you know how many times these werewolves get hurt?) and then he felt Derek tense in his arms.

When Stiles looked down, his heart clenched in terror. Derek’s eyes had rolled back into his head and he was seizing. _Oh my God, Derek is having a seizure right now._

Stiles quickly typed in the last number, hit speaker, and then he was maneuvering Derek onto his side. He knew he was supposed to just let the seizure run its course, but seeing Derek like this, so broken and hurt, was breaking Stiles’ heart.

Stiles felt wetness on his cheeks—he didn’t even know he’d been crying—and then he heard Deaton.

“Stiles? What is it?”

“Oh my god Deaton, Derek has been poisoned with wolfsbane and I don’t know what to do and he’s seizing on the floor and he was throwing up and…oh god, is he dying? He cant die Deaton, he can’t!” Stiles was hyperventilating. Panic was gripping his lungs, squeezing the air out of them and then squeezing just a little bit more. Deaton’s voice was the only thing keeping him from a full on panic attack.

“Stiles, listen to me. You need to find a sharp object, scissors or a knife, and use it to cut down the center of Derek’s chest. You’ve seen me do this before, I know you can do it.”

It was a few seconds before he spoke again.

“ Stiles?” Stiles was going to be sick.

“Yeah, yeah okay. I can do that.” Stiles took another deep breath and sighed when Derek finally quit shaking on the floor.

“Stiles, the minute you get him breathing again, you bring him to me.”

“Yeah, got it.” Stiles hung up with a click and then he was sprinting downstairs to where he knew Derek kept all of the kitchen knives. He grabbed the sharpest looking one, tried not puke, and then sprinted back upstairs.

Derek was lying still on the floor, his skin a pale comparison to his usual tan. Droplets of sweat glistened on his bare chest. The same chest Stiles was about to cut open. With a knife.

Bracing himself, he got down on his knees to gently turn Derek back onto his back. He took the knife and, with shaking hands, ran the blade over the other mans chest.

The blood that pooled immediately made Stiles queasy, but he kept going. After a few inches, a bright purple dust escaped the wound, disappearing into the air around them, and then Derek was gasping for air.

Stiles quickly dropped the knife in favor of running his hands all over Derek’s face.

“Oh thank god, I thought I’d lost you.” Stiles’ voice trembled with relief and then he was sobbing, all of the stress from the past several minutes finally catching up with him. His hands cupped Derek’s cheeks, and then he kissed him.

Derek just let it happen, knowing Stiles needed this moment to realize Derek would be alright.

Stiles pulled back soon after and then he was looking over every inch of Derek. The way the sweat clung to Derek’s hair, plastering it to his forehead. The way Derek’s eyes still held residual pain. Even the way Derek was gripping Stiles’ arms like he thought Stiles would leave if he let go.

But most importantly, he studied the way Derek’s chest was rising and falling, proof and insurance that Derek would be alright.

“Can you stand?” Stiles asked, sniffling. “We have to go to Deaton’s so he can check you out, make sure everything is out of your system.”

Derek nodded, and then Stiles was there to pull him to his feet. Derek swayed slightly, so Stiles wrapped his arm around his waist and made the way downstairs and to his Jeep. He helped Derek in, buckling his seat belt for him, and then he raced to the drivers side and hopped in, starting the car.

  
—————  
  
The drive to Deaton’s had been a quiet and nerve wracking one. Deaton had been waiting for them when they arrived, so he helped Stiles carry Derek inside and then Derek was laying on the metal table Deaton used for all of his patients.

Stiles stepped out of the room to breathe, and to just compose himself for a few minutes. Derek was out of danger, for now at least, and Stiles just needed to sit and take a break.

30 minutes later, Deaton walked into the room to let Stiles know that everything was out of Derek’s system and that he would be fine in a few hours. Stiles let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, then stood and walked into the room.

Inside, he found Derek asleep on the table, peaceful and quiet, and alive.

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Derek looked so young when he was asleep. So innocent and free of guilt and pain and fear. What Stiles wouldn’t give to have Derek feel that way forever.

5:

 

**Dad 6:32 pm:  
Where are you?**

**Stiles 6:36 pm:  
Omw. Had 2 stop at library.**

**Dad 6:42 pm:  
You need to hurry up. Derek is here waiting for you. Says it’s important.**

**Stiles 6:45 pm:  
OMG TELL HIM I’M ALMOST THERE!!!**

**Dad 6:48 pm:  
No speeding, son.**

Stiles decided he wasn’t going to acknowledge that text with a response. He’s only going 10 over the speed limit. He’s done worse. (And the fact that his dad just completely ignored that he was texting and driving? Well, he’ll ignore that too)

Granted, the only time he sped this bad was when he was taking Derek to Deaton’s after watching him almost die of Wolfsbane poisoning, but…semantics.

Stiles hadn’t actually been anywhere near the house when he told his dad he was on the way. He also hadn’t been at the library, but his dad didn’t need to know that he was at the store buying a gift for Derek’s birthday. An adult store. With things. Necessary things. Dumb sourwolf thought he would get away with not telling him. HA.

Stiles’ skills with the computer were way under appreciated. Even his dad, the one who raised him, didn’t even realize Stiles’ googling skills. It was sad really.

He was also never recognized for his lying abilities, but Stiles wasn’t exactly proud of those. Not that he would admit it, even if he was.

It took him 10 minutes. 10 whole goddamn minutes because the jackass in front of him decided to go 10 miles per hour below the speed limit. Like, seriously, who does that?!

Finally, _finally_ , he pulled into his driveway and was greeted with a grumpy faced werewolf.

“Oh lord, what did I do now?” Stiles rolled his eyes as he climbed out of the Jeep, fully aware that Derek hated it when he did that.

“What did you do? _Stiles_ , I called you 5 times today! Five times! Do you know how worried I’ve been?” Derek walked, more like stalked, towards Stiles as he spoke, and when he got closer, Stiles could see the underlying fear in his eyes.

“I thought something had happened, or you were dead, or you were ignoring me…” Derek got quiet on that last part, as if he was terrified that by voicing it, it would come true. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Derek, I would never ignore you…unless you deserved it.” At that Derek sent a glare towards Stiles, and Stiles was only half proud that he didn’t glare right back.

“I promise you, if I were ignoring you, you would know it. It involves a lot of moping and sulking and walking around you but not actually talking to you. Ask my dad, he knows.”

Derek let out a little breath in what seemed like relief, but he was still tense and there was still a hint of fear in his eyes. Stiles sighed and closed the distance between them, wrapping Derek up in one big hug.

Almost immediately, Derek relaxed and hugged Stiles right back. His arms squeezed Stiles’ ribs but he didn’t care. Stiles was just happy that’s Derek wasn’t actually mad at him. Stiles could feel Derek’s breaths fanning over his neck, and it sent shivers down his spine.

Goosebumps spread all over his body and they had nothing to do with the chilly night air around him.

“As much as I’d love to stand here with you breathing down my neck all night, we should probably go inside. Some of us don’t have an internal heater.” Stiles smirked knowingly, and it grew bigger when he heard Derek huff. (That was definitely a laugh and no one could tell him differently)

“You never seem to hesitate to use my ‘internal heater’, as you call it, to your advantage. Do you know how many times I’ve had your cold ass hands shoved up my shirt?” Derek grinned, no doubt thinking of that time they both watched the Titanic and Stiles had decided he wanted to turn the air down so he could “get a feel for what they experienced”. Let’s just say that it didn’t end well, but Stiles learned his lesson. Werewolves were great heaters.

“Well, you know, I could always shove them somewhere else,” Stiles whispered. Derek’s breath hitched as Stiles moved his hands lower, towards the seam of Derek’s sweatpants. A low rumble was coming from Derek’s chest and Stiles couldn’t help but enjoy the way he affected Derek.

Just as Stiles dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of Derek’s sweats, he heard a dreaded sound. One that sounded a lot like a door. And a man clearing his throat. And…holy shit!

Stiles did not shriek. He didn’t. (Although the resulting argument later will definitely be one he’ll never live down)

They jumped apart quickly, not at all subtle. Stiles’ dad stood on the porch, a perfect picture of ‘Protective Dad’ but also ‘Ready to fire weapon Sheriff’ and Stiles was more than a little terrified.

Derek’s head was ducked and his ears were tinged pink, and if Stiles wasn’t absolutely terrified that his dad would shoot Derek, then he would have called him cute.

Stiles’ heart was pounding and Derek looked like he was this close to just running away and never coming back and Stiles couldn’t have that. He would not lose him.

He reached over and intertwined his fingers with Derek’s, all the while keeping eye contact with his dad.

“Dad, I won’t leave him.” Stiles stood firm, hopefully looking more confident than he felt, and stared down his dad, the Sheriff.

His dad just raised an eyebrow- one of the second most impressive eyebrow gestures he’s ever seen, only preceded by Derek’s abilities in that department- and let out a sigh.

“No, I suppose you won’t.” His dad just turned and walked towards the open door, and Stiles swore he saw a smile on his dad’s face before he turned around.

Stiles stood stock still, which was impressive in and of itself. It was shock. Yep, definitely shock. And Derek was experiencing it too.

The hand intertwined with his own was shaking and clammy, and considering he was holding hands with a werewolf, that was an impressive feat. His dad just scared the shit out of a werewolf. He’s almost impressed.

“Soooo…that just happened.” Stiles turned to Derek…and couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Derek’s face.

He was pale and his eyes were wide, no doubt having been that way since his dad interrupted them, and he looked so damn confused. He looked lost, like a sad little puppy, and Stiles said as much.

“Stiles, your dad is definitely looking for a shotgun right now. I need to go, or just dig a hole and bury myself in it. Fuck…”

Stiles chuckled at Derek’s rambling, happy to be the sane one for once, and moved to wrap his arms around Derek’s hips once more. He smiled up at Derek, his fingers rubbing little circles in the small of Derek’s back.

“Babe, my dad is not going to get a shotgun. No doubt, that was one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced, but…he’ll get over it.” Derek didn’t look convinced, but he did relax a little under Stiles’ ministrations.

Stiles leaned forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s. A slow, chaste, simple kiss but it spoke volumes to the way Stiles felt for Derek. Derek’s lips moved with his, like two lost puzzle pieces that just found there spot in the bigger picture, and Stiles couldn’t help but sigh.

He felt Derek’s hands on his back, making there way down to where he knew his jeans hung low on his hips, finger massaging his back just like Stiles had done. Stiles moaned into the kiss, hips bucking involuntarily, and when Derek used his tongue to open his lips, he…  
  
“Stiles, inside now!” Once again, they jumped apart like teenagers caught on the front porch after prom night. (Which was pretty much accurate, except for the prom part)

Sheepishly, Stiles started to move towards the house, but not before whispering a quick “meet me in my room” just loud enough for Derek to hear. Stiles didn’t get to see Derek’s reaction, but he’s pretty sure he heard him choke and then try to cover it with a cough.

Just before Stiles walked in the front door, he turned to give Derek a wink and a small wave, and then the door was closing behind him.

—————

An hour. That’s how long it took his dad to give him “the talk” which only ended because Stiles was absolutely not listening to anymore.

“Look Stiles, I just want you to be safe. Running with werewolves is already an awful idea, but now you’re dating one? I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You’re all I have left.” That last part knocked the breath out of Stiles, and he was horrified to feel that he was about to cry.

His dad stood from his chair and strode over to Stiles, pulling him in for a bear hug. The kind that usually only comes around after Stiles had gotten himself into some serious shit.

Stiles hugged him back, hard, and just breathed him in, enjoying this moment while it lasted.

And then his dad shocked him even more. “Go tell your boyfriend goodnight, and then tell him to go home.”

“Wha—how did you—huh?” Stiles was stammering, holy shit.

“I’m not an idiot Stiles, I know he’s up there. So go tell him goodnight,” he said as he gave a stern look, “and then tell him to go home. You guys can hang out tomorrow.”

Stiles nodded dumbly and made his way to the stairs that would lead up to his bedroom, but before he walked up the stairs, he turned to his dad and said, “Thanks Dad.”

His dad’s quiet reply warmed his heart.

“I love you son.”

—————

The smile never left his face as he made his way up the stairs. He thought about making his way to the shower first, but he knew his dad wouldn’t go to sleep until he was sure Derek had gone home.

He opened the door to his room, expecting to be met with a cuddly Derek or at least his beautiful face staring at him, but no. Derek was sound asleep on his bed.

His face was tucked in between Stiles’ pillows and he had Stiles’ blanket twisted in his hands and close to his face, no doubt scenting it unconsciously. And didn’t that just do wonderful things to his libido.

Stiles quietly made his way over to where Derek’s prone form snored soundly and just stared.

His boyfriend was beautiful. Not just on the outside, but on the inside also. The way he sacrifices his own wellbeing for that of others, the ways he cares wholeheartedly for everyone he loves, the way he buys those pop tarts that only Stiles likes. He is one of the most selfless and caring people he has ever met and Stiles can’t believe he ever got so lucky.

Really not wanting to wake him up, but also knowing his dad was not going to budge on this subject, he gently shook Derek’s shoulder.

Derek groaned into the pillow, and Stiles swore he heard him say “five more minutes”. He chuckled and shook Derek’s shoulder once more.

“Der-bear, baby, you’ve got to wake up before my dad comes in to see what’s taking so long.”

At that, Derek turned over onto his back and stretched, very much catlike, which, weird. With his arms over his head, his shirt drifted up, leaving a sliver of skin out in the open for Stiles’ consumption.

He licked his lips and let his fingers drift towards that patch of skin dusted with coarse black hair, watching as Derek’s abs contracted at the gentle touch. His mouth was actually watering, and when he looked up at Derek’s face, he looked absolutely predatory.

Derek sat himself up, one hand running up Stiles’ thigh where it rested on the edge of the bed, the other making its way up Stiles’ throat and into the fine hairs there. It didn’t take long before Derek was gently lowering him to the bed, and then they were kissing.

Derek’s lips on his were actually heaven, but then he twisted just that way, and shifted his hips in that perfect way, and then it was so much more than heaven. It was love. Stiles loved Derek, and dammit if he was ever going to let this man go without him knowing it.

He moved his hands in between them and pushed just a little, just enough to get Derek far enough away so he could concentrate.

“Derek, I need to tell you something. And you don’t have to say anything back or reply at all, but I just need you to know this and I don’t want it to affect our relationship or scare you away or anything but-“

Derek placed a finger over his mouth, halting that entire rant right in its path. Stiles was confused for all of two seconds, and then Derek was saying those 4 words. The ones Stiles never thought he’d hear. The ones that made his heart go all fluttery inside.

“I love you too.”

Stiles was never going to lose this smile.

+1:

  
Today sucked. Absolutely, positively, 100% sucked. And it’s only getting worse.

Today started like any other day for Stiles. He got up early, went for his run, took a shower, then decided to head to the library to do some more research on some of the supernatural creatures he had been studying.

That was when the police decided they were going to do something actually worth a shit and lockdown the whole library because there was a shooter in the area. Not only that, but it turns out the shooter was actually inside the library.

Then, as if to add insult to injury, Stiles found out the shooter was actually a rogue hunter on the search for the “human that ran with the wolves”, AKA, Stiles.

Fuck, Stiles’ life sucked.

8 hours they were trapped in there. 8 fucking hours, every single one of them seeming to last a year. And in that time, Stiles learned that 1) he really didn’t wanna fucking die and 2) Derek was going to kill him if he didn’t make it out alive.

He’d been right about that second part.

After the required paramedic check, the one where Stiles just rolled his eyes and let the man take his blood pressure, he was finally free to leave, but not before getting a huge hug from his dad, a whispered “be careful” and another call from Derek.

This one, he finally picked up.

“Stiles? Are you alright?”

“What, I don’t get a hello, how was your day, missed you? That really hurts sourwolf.”

Derek didn’t take the bait. He was actually unusually quiet on the other end of the phone.

“Derek, are you ok?” Stiles was more than a little worried. For God’s sake, the last time he didn’t answer his phone, Derek invaded his room.

He heard Derek take a breath on the other side. It came out shaky.

“Just come home please.”

That‘s it. That’s all he said. But those 4 words slammed through Stiles. Derek said home. Home, as in where he lives and where Stiles has already pretty much moved in. Home, in the beautiful house Derek had rebuilt from the ashes of those he loved. Home.

A noise in his ear brought him back to the present, and then he realized that Derek had never actually hung up. He was making noises on the other end. Sounded a lot like…sniffling?

“Oh my god, Derek baby, are you crying?” Stiles was taken aback. He didn’t really know how to handle this situation. “I promise I’m alright. I’m in one piece and there’s not even a bruise on me. At least, not one from today.”

It was quiet except for the sniffling in his ear.

“Derek?” Stiles whispered. “I’ll be home in 5 minutes. Just stay on the phone, okay?”

Okay was all Derek replied with, but it sounded choked, and broken and Stiles’ heart crumbled just a little bit more.

Stiles sprinted to his Jeep, just barely making it in without breaking anything, and threw his backpack into the passenger seat. He turned the key in the ignition and just sped off without even trying to buckle his seatbelt. He’ll worry about that later.

4 minutes and 43 seconds later, Stiles pulled up in front of the newly refurbished Hale house. If he wasn’t so worried about Derek, he might have stopped to admire the view, but he _was_ worried about Derek, so he ran up the steps and straight through the open front door.

And right into a hard wall of muscle. His surprise didn’t last long, before he was wrapping his arms tightly around the man he loved.

Derek’s nose was tucked into the crook of Stiles’ shoulder and his hands were wrapped firmly around his back, but Stiles could feel the tremors Derek was trying to hide.

“Shhh, Derek I’m okay. You’re okay. _We’re_ okay.” Stiles rubbed his back in small circles, trying to ease out some of the tension currently making his boyfriend a rod. It wasn’t long before he realized that Derek was crying. The wetness on his shoulder was proof of that.

“Derek, baby you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” Derek just shook his head and moved in even closer, gripped him a little tighter. Stiles just cradled Derek in his arms, letting the wolf get everything out of his system.

Soon, Derek relaxed enough to lift his head and plant a shaky kiss on Stiles’ lips.

“Stiles, I thought I’d lost you. First, you didn’t answer any of my calls, and then I got a call from your dad saying you were stuck in a lockdown with a rogue hunter. He only said that I should stay here just in case it was a trap and that he would let me know when you finally got out.” Derek sniffled and ran his arm under his nose.

“I can’t even begin to express the relief I felt when you got out safely. I’m pretty sure my heart just completely stopped.”

“Derek, I’m okay, I-“

“Stiles, let me finish this. Just once, let me finish my thought.” Stiles mimicked zipping his lips shut and nodded to let Derek continue.

“That relief I felt, it made me realize something. If I ever lost you, _ever_ , I would never survive. _Especially_ if it was because of my lifestyle. You never deserved to be in this life, in my fucked up world, but you managed to crawl your way under my skin anyway. And I know it’s selfish of me, but I won’t ever be able to give you up. Not for anything in the world.”

At this, Derek backs away a step, and to Stiles’ complete and utter surprise (like seriously, Stiles is 150% shocked), Derek gets down on one knee and pulls out a small, red, velvet box.

“Stiles Stilinksi, you have stolen my heart with your sarcasm and your snark, but also with the way you care for everyone around you. The way you care for me. Will you be my husband? Forever and always?”

Stiles gaped. Did that just happen? Did that just fucking happen?! Holy shit, holy shit, Derek Hale, _the Derek Hale_ , just proposed to him. To Stiles, 150 pounds of sarcasm and clumsiness. This must be a dream but goddamn it Stiles sure as hell didn’t want to wake up if it was.

“Stiles?” Derek looked up at him with a mix of confusion and a little bit of fear. Stiles’ inner monologue kept him from actually answering.

“Oh my god you big teddy bear, of course I’ll marry you!” The cheeky grin that graced Derek’s face at that moment was one that Stiles would never be able to forget. Ever.

Derek just looked so damn happy, and Stiles had done that. Stiles had made him happy enough to smile like all of his worries didn’t exist anymore. A tear dripped down his face.

Of course, Derek didn’t miss it. He stood from his position on the floor and stepped all up into Stiles’ personal space, leaned his forehead onto Stiles’, then reverently, gently, placed the simple gold band on Stiles’ finger.

“I love you so much, Stiles.” Derek was smiling, ear to ear. It was a beautiful smile.

“I love you so much more, sourwolf,” Stiles said, grinning.

—————

  
It didn’t take long before Derek and Stiles were caught in a heated passionate kiss that led to them stumbling up the stairs to Derek’s bedroom.

Stiles tripped over himself more than once, Derek caught him each time, and then eventually, they landed in a heap on the bed.

Stiles was so turned on it wasn’t even funny. His dick was throbbing behind his zipper and he could definitely feel Derek’s member jointing the party.

Derek was kissing up the side of his neck, each kiss accentuated with a lick and a nibble, while his hands were busy making themselves known on Stiles’ chest. He would pinch, then pull, then pinch again, each nipple peaked and sensitive by the time he even moved down to mouth over them.

Stiles arched up into Derek’s touch, his entire body radiating pleasure. A fire was raging within him, and Derek was the only person that could ever put it out.

Stiles wriggled underneath Derek, unable to do anything but enjoy the feeling of Derek’s skilled tongue making it’s way down to Stiles’ happy trail. When Derek hovered over Stiles’ dick, just staring at the hard length like he wanted to eat it up, Stiles made a noise and bucked his hips just a bit to get Derek moving again, but instead of moving, Derek just looked up at him with this look that spoke volumes to how he felt for Stiles.

That look warmed something within Stiles’ chest, something that he had never noticed before, but now that he had, he realized that he had been missing that piece of him, until Derek pulled it up and out into the open. It was almost too much for him to handle.

“Derek, you are so…beautiful,” Stiles whispered, unwilling to break the peaceful trance that had set upon them and this moment. He wanted to freeze this moment and keep it in his mind forever and ever.

Derek blushed, actually _blushed_ , and Stiles needed to kiss him, right now, or he was going to die. He pulled Derek up so he could kiss him. And this kiss was gentle, soft, everything that it should be, everything they deserved.

Stiles ran his tongue along the seam of Derek’s lips, asking permission, but Derek just opened up without hesitation. Derek trusted Stiles enough to open himself up like this and Stiles was relishing in the fact that this man, this beautiful man, chose him to be his partner for life. Stiles couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky.

As most kisses go, this one went further, dove deeper, got dirtier as time went on. Soon the gentle caresses became forceful shoves to remove clothing. The sweet kisses became fevered and rushed. Derek pushed himself off the bed to rid himself of his pants while Stiles kicked his off the rest of the way.

When Derek climbed back on the bed, a low rumble had begun in his chest and he looked absolutely ravenous. His eyes were even their bright shade of red, which Stiles was unashamed to admit turned him on immensely.

His cock was throbbing where it rested on his stomach, and Derek was so close to it, so close to touching, but still, he did not. Instead, he gripped Stiles’ legs, raised them over his shoulders, and buried his face in between Stiles’ cheeks.

Stiles arched into the feeling, his nerves firing pleasure all over his body. Derek hadn’t even done anything yet, just breathed over Stiles’ rim, and still Stiles could feel the heat pooling low in his stomach.

Stiles reached behind him and grabbed onto the headboard as he felt Derek’s breath become hot and wet and then there was a tongue circling his rim, and Stiles moaned and tried to push himself further onto Derek’s face.

Derek was having none of that. He put his hands over Stiles’ hips so he couldn’t move and then he yanked Stiles up so that only his back and shoulders were on the bed. Stiles always loved when Derek took control like this, always loved giving his body over to Derek’s ministrations. He especially enjoyed the way Derek would dip his tongue _just like that_ , and oh god Stiles was going to die.

When Stiles tried to move his hips, just anything to get the friction he wanted, Derek growled and shoved his tongue forcefully into Stiles’ hole, almost as if to say _mine_ , and then Stiles was crying out as he came all over himself.

Derek never stopped his movements, dragged it out just to make Stiles enjoy it that much longer. When Stiles finally quit shaking, Derek gently set his hips down and reached over to the bedside table for the lube he always kept there.

“Derek…that was amazing…I love you so much…Oh god please fuck me.” Stiles rambled on and on and then Derek was back, lube in hand, gently turning Stiles over on his side.

This was Derek’s favorite position when they fucked. Stiles on his side and Derek behind him, one of Stiles’ legs thrown over Derek’s shoulder in a mock split. Stiles loved this position too, he wasn’t going to lie.

“Stiles, you are the love of my life and I am so happy that you agreed to marry me. I can’t wait to live to a ripe old age with your annoying ass.”

“Hey! My ass is not annoy-“

Derek cut him off by pushing a lubed up finger into his tight hole. Instead of finishing his sentence, Stiles just let out a loud moan and relaxed back onto the bed. Derek knew where that sentence was going anyway.

One finger soon became two, then two became three and Stiles felt like his hole was stretched enough, and told Derek as much.

“Derek come on,” Stiles whined. He was so ready to feel Derek inside him, thrusting in and out of his ass with practiced precision.

Derek growled and removed his fingers from Stiles’ hole, bent down to lick up the mess and also just to drive Stiles crazy, and just when Stiles was about to protest, Derek shoved his cock slowly inside of Stiles.

Inch by inch, each one taken gradually but still persistent. Derek insistently pushed his way in until he was completely buried to his hips, his balls cradled within the crook of Stiles’ thigh and hip. Stiles breathed slowly, willing his body to relax and enjoy the immense pleasure coursing through him at the moment.

“Stiles, breathe baby. You’re alright, just relax.”

Derek’s soothing words flooded through Stiles’ mind and body and soon he was relaxed enough for Derek to slowly slide back out.

He kept up a slow pace, in and out, in and out, until Stiles was frustrated enough to whine and whimper. With the way Derek was straddling his left leg and his right leg was over Derek’s shoulder, Stiles didn’t have much in the way of movement. He couldn’t even grab his own dick because Derek’s hand was currently holding his hands hostage up above his head.

He growled, frustrated.

“Derek, I swear to god if you don’t _move_ right now I’m going to-“

Stiles didn’t get to finish that sentence. Derek shoved his way in, quick and hard and just what Stiles needed.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” Derek moaned. “All red and sweaty and stretched out just for me. I want to make you feel so good. So good…” Derek trailed off on a particularly hard thrust that brushed over Stiles’ prostate as Stiles arched his back and cried out, his walls clenching down over Derek’s cock.

Derek growled at the sensation, fingers gripping into Stiles’ thigh hard enough to leave bruises, but Stiles didn’t care. He was so past caring about that anymore. Derek was his, and he wanted the world to know it.

“Derek— I need…fuck I need to come,” Stiles sobbed. There was an immense pressure building up in his cock and he needed to come immediately.

Derek shifted, just a little to the right, moved his hand down to where Stiles’ aching cock was leaking pre-cum and started pumping furiously. It only took three pumps before Stiles was screaming with his release, shaking with the pleasure still spreading through him as Derek continued to pound into him.

A few more thrusts and then Derek was following Stiles’ lead. He was frantic and uncoordinated and then he shoved himself as deep as he could get himself and stilled, his release flowing through him hard enough for Stiles to feel the shudders that followed. Stiles milked him for all he had, all the while hushing Derek, whispering sweet nothings to him as he came down from his orgasm induced high.

Derek collapsed on top of Stiles, still buried deep inside of him, unable to gather the strength to move just yet.

“I love you babe,” Stiles whispered as he felt himself beginning to drift off. Derek moved behind him and then he was gently pulling out of Stiles’ abused hole, mindful of the pained gasps Stiles let out.

Derek stumbled out of bed after mumbling something about cleaning up, and then he was in front of Stiles with a wet washcloth, gently running it over the mess of come and sweat mixed on his chest and his backside. Stiles looked up at Derek lovingly, with love, lots of love, and caressed Derek’s cheek with a soft hand.

Stiles loved this brilliant man, so very much, and as much as he did not want to leave, his dad was expecting him home at some point.

“Derek, I really really hate to say this…but my dad is expecting me home tonight.” Derek frowned, and Stiles imagined his face matched Derek’s quite well. He did not want to leave this bed right now.

Still, he sat up and faced Derek, who was still kneeling on the floor next to the bed. The look on his face was heartbreaking. Stiles hated that look, hated himself for putting it there.

“I don’t want you to go,” Derek said with a frown. “Stay here with me, please. Sleep in my bed, let me wrap you up in my arms like I have always wanted to. I want you to stay with me Stiles, and I never want you to leave.” Derek said all of this in a rush, but Stiles is adept at understanding rambling (he’s a master of it himself), and he heard every word Derek said.

Derek asked him to stay. He wanted Stiles to stay here and sleep with him, maybe cuddle a little. Stiles would probably wake up to the smell of coffee and breakfast, a beautiful half naked man holding a tray out in front of him. Stiles knew right then that his choice had been chosen for him.

“Okay sourwolf,” Stiles said gently. “I’ll stay. I’ll text Scott and tell him to cover for me.”

Derek smiled brightly, and then his lips were on Stiles’ and Stiles knew that he could never deny Derek anything if he asked nicely. He even said please. Stiles loved this man so much.

Eventually, they changed into bed clothes, which consisted of Derek in a pair of boxers and Stiles wearing a pair of Derek’s sweatpants, and wrapped up in each other for the best sleep either one of them had ever had.

  
Stiles didn’t wake up to the smell of coffee or breakfast, but he did wake up with his fiancé wrapped around him in one big octopus hug, and honestly, Stiles would never have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought :)
> 
> If you liked it, awesome!
> 
> If not, let me know why and I can use your advice for future reference :)


End file.
